As Bogart said to Bergman
in "Casablanca," "We'll always
have Paris."
As Steven Spurrier said to me 40 years ago, "I
don't have a thermofax machine, but there's a chap nearby who does--I'll send
you some interesting stuff." Steven set off a big bang with what became
known ever after as The Paris Tasting, and I was happy to amplify it, and the
wine world has also always had Paris ever since. When Warren Winiarski
came over for a visit a while back, we had a bit of a reunion. Typical--Steven and I with glasses in hand, Warren
with large pebbles--he rocks! (Although, to be fair, we were in a vineyard at
the time, so he could say it was research.) Less talked
about is the fact that, every time the tasting has been re-staged by Steven and various cohorts, usually on decade-marker
anniversaries for the reds involved, California Cabernets always came out on
top. (When we did it at the 30-year mark here in London
at Berry Bros & Rudd, California
took all five first places, led by Ridge "Montebello".) As Steven
said, “the California
wines were made to express, rather than to impress.” Now, the
tables may have turned again: At a recent tasting of the 2000 vintage, Bordeaux beat the
daylights out of the Californians. Someone was paying attention, obviously.

A few countries around the Mediterranean have a delicious
identity crisis—in a varietally organized world, dominated by the likes of
Chardonnay, Cabernet Sauvignon, and flashy new arrivals such as Pinot Grigio,
what do you do when your wines are made from quite unfamiliar grapes, singly
or blended with other strange-sounding ones? Greeks and
Croatians generally put the grape names on their labels and hope for the best;
in the western Balkans, they seem content with local markets, exporting a bit
to close neighbors who might be anti-Russian (Communism nearly ruined
winemaking behind the Iron Curtain). In the Douro
Vally in Portugal,
the problem has been different, less a matter of shifting gears than of
building a new car. For many centuries, the steep, terraced hillsides above the
namesake river have been planted to a hodgepodge of mostly red grapes that went
into Port; now, the world is inclined more to lighter table wines. Those old
vines yield superb fruit, and can make splendid table wine as well. Reform,
rejuvenation, or renovation? How do you tell the story? For five of
the region’s best small independent winemakers, the answer was to form a loose
sort of bromance: The Douro Boys, whose slogan is “flying the flag for the Douro, enabling dry wines.” “We have fun, but we’re
serious,” said Cristiano
van Zeller, when we chatted at
Decanter’s recent Fine Wine Encounter devoted to Iberian wines. They are Francisco Ferreira, of
Quinta do Vallado; Dirk van der Niepoort, of Niepoort; Francisco Olazabal,
of Quinta do Vale Meão; Tomas Roquette, of Quinta do Crasto; and Christiano,
who owns Quinta Vale Dona Maria. At a Masterclass during the
tasting, the flag flew well. Niepoort’s white from 2014, known as Tiara
(principal grape in a complex blend is Codega do Larinho—see what I mean?) was
pale gold and full-bodied, rounded but braced with quietly firm acidity. Quinta
Vale Dona Maria’s two from 2013, Douoro Red and Vinha da Francisca were both
vibrant, the former a little lighter (a blend of 25 grapes), the latter a touch
more tannic, and a blend of only four grapes, predominantly Touriga Nacional.
Quinta do Crasto’s Vinha
da Ponte 2012 was bold and loaded
with fruit but with muscular structure that will guarantee a long age, surely
at least 20 years at best. Quinta do Vale Meão’s Douro Superior 2013 went for almost classical
Bordeaux-style elegance for its multi-grape blend, another 20-year winner,
surely. There was
talk of terroir, interestingly complicated when you have so
many different grapes and also many sorts of soil and exposures to sunshine
along those terraces, even in small vineyards. In the end, though, as it’s about
flavour and enjoyment, they’re home free. Find them at www.douroboys.com, or on Facebook.

You could be forgiven for not having noticed, but the first
week of May was “World Wine Week.” The second week of this well-blessed month
has been declared “British Sandwich Week,” perhaps appropriate enough, as the
handy meal was invented—or at least named--in England. In between these two
sort-of events, May 6 was designated “International Sauvignon Blanc Day.” Busy
month for food and wine! What was most interesting about Sauvignon Blanc Day was that
the official Bordeaux Blanc group made a great deal of noise about it,
celebrating its principal grape with much fanfare, but didn’t once mention the
minor but crucial partner in the blend, Semillon. If ever there were a grape
worthy of being acclaimed as Best Supporting Actor, Semillon should win in a walk, but it
seems to be a victim of fashion. It was once a serious contender in Washington State,
but even Pinot Grigio has overtaken it there, and Chile has cut back its acreage.
Only Australia
honors it (and does it proud, as proven by a recent bottle of Tyrell's Hunter Valley 2005), which may be something to consider while we ponder our wine choices
for “Barbecue Week,” which is the last week of May. Shiraz, anyone?